Metaphor
by ThefirstTevlek
Summary: The desired Sequal to Justice for Stupidity. Kyouya can not figure out what he could use to compare his strange liking towards Haruhi. KyouyaxHaruhi.
1. A Passing Fancy

_**A Passing Fancy**_

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* * *

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"I don't see why I was recruited for this as well. I can think of four others who would rather be wondering the streets at nine o'clock in the morning."

"Kyouya, this is for Haruhi! She has errands to run and we're here to help!"

"Actually, I wouldn't have invited either of you if I had the choice." Haruhi grumbled, holding the top of her coat closed with her fist, the top button missing due to some neglectful mending. The bitter November air was worse than it had been in the end of October. Puffs of air escaping her lips and mixing in with the huffy breathing of a rather weary-looking Kyouya and the steady stream escaping Tamaki's parted lips as he twisted his head every which way to observe the people they passed.

"Haruhi, how could you say that?" The blond gasped, focusing on the back of the brunette's head. "If we were not here, who would carry your things when you leave shop after shop with your arms full of items? Countless items that will burden your arms because you do not have a car to place them in?"

"I'm not buying that much!" she grumbled, glaring up at the blond when he fell into step with her.

Rich bastards just seemed to keep growing…Tamaki was already taller than he had been when she first encountered him last year. A careful check up on Kyouya clarified that he too was growing a bit in height. They weren't as evenly matched at this point; in fact, Ootori seemed to be winning the growth-spurt. Idiocy must have stunted Tamaki's development.

"How did you come across the information that she was shopping in the first place?" Kyouya asked, still not appearing very forgiving when he shot a narrow-eyed glance at the blond.

"He called me." Haruhi answered in his stead, "Someone gave him my cell phone number and he wouldn't stop calling until I picked up."

"I was worried! Winter Break is approaching and you haven't been at school recently!" Tamaki exclaimed in his defense.

Kyouya lowered his eyes to Haruhi, "Haruhi, you've just recovered from a cold, right?"

"Sort of, my father wouldn't leave me alone to rest so it took longer than it should have because I kept exhausting myself telling him I would be fine. Hikaru and Kaoru came by as well with Hunny-senpai and Mori-senpai following close behind to make things worse." She heaved a sigh, gripping the collar of her coat tighter, "I still have a little fever today, but since father never left the apartment, we didn't get around to buying groceries or anything else that we needed. So, since he's back at work today, I was going to run the errands. I wasn't expecting Tamaki-senpai to want to come; I especially didn't think he'd drag you along too. I'm sorry."

"You're not the one responsible for waking me up." Kyouya said, Tamaki edging away from him a bit, aware of the danger zone he was in. But the retreat was in vain, for Kyouya reached over and grasped a fist full of Tamaki's coat; pulling him back over to him. "You're the one who I won't let off the hook for waking me up after a mere three hour sleep."

"I-I didn't know you were up so late!" Tamaki held up his hands in a peaceful gesture, "I didn't know!"

Ootori released his coat and shoved his hands into his pockets, grumpy with his lack of sleep. "In any case, Haruhi, let's get this over with."

"S-Sure."

It was obvious the junior had become a bit uneasy now after seeing the rather murderous state Kyouya was in. She would have to do her best to carry what she could and force the rest on Tamaki to avoid a deadly encounter with the Shadow King. She covered her mouth to stifle what was left of her coughing. Maybe she should have taken advantage of her father being at work and stayed home after all.

The muffled cough caught the eyes of the two kings, silent but wary gazes watching over her but neither of them making a move to force her to go back to her apartment. Haruhi was too stubborn to listen sometimes, today would be no exception.

"Here's the first stop." Haruhi pointed out, removing her gloves and frowning a bit at the one she had thoughtlessly coughed into before stuffing it into her coat pocket. "You two can wait out here or go inside but I don't want to stay here too long, alright?"

Tamaki pouted a bit when she ventured inside (she knew he would spend hours looking around at the commoner goods inside if she didn't give him a time limit) but followed immediately. Unable to hold the door open for her, he probably believed he could make up for it by becoming her shadow throughout her visit through the store. It took a moment of debating before Kyouya shrugged and ventured into the store, identifying it as a convenience store once the warm air rushed over him upon his entry.

The teenage clerks at the registers and equivalent baggers and various other employees were all the proof he needed to identify the type of business. A girl was mopping up what looked like spilled clear soda near some shelves displaying "Ramune" sodas. He recalled seeing them before but never had the urge to try them like Tamaki probably would have if he saw that display.

Even though the store wasn't big enough to lose himself in, he had to look down a few aisles before he could find Tamaki and Haruhi. It was similar to seeing them talking when he and the rest of the Host Club went to the supermarket with Ranka to watch over Haruhi as she bought things for the apartment. This was the same store if he wasn't mistaken.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"No, thanks." He muttered to a girl who had abandoned her register to talk to him.

It was irritating how often commoner females became attracted to him…well, he wouldn't have minded it if Haruhi was one of them now that he's come to the conclusion he was, indeed, in love with her like the rest of the hosts. Perhaps he was the last to catch onto what he was feeling, Tamaki knew what it was, but he simply couldn't identify what kind it was. Like a taste test for something you don't usually have interest in. You taste it and others but can not identify what the flavor is because it is something you are not used to.

That was Tamaki's love in a nutshell.

Stalking down an aisle, Ootori re-joined the two and managed to catch up with the rather simplistic conversation Suoh had managed to coax out of Haruhi. He watched Haruhi carefully as she peered up from one host to the other, not noticing his stare since her eyes were constantly moving. A part of him heard what she was saying but the rest remained in a constant thoughtful stage.

_If I love her as much as I believe I do, what is it that stops me I wonder?_

Tamaki's laughter broke his train of thought and his stare, drawing his attention to the slightly flustered blond as he avoided being hit with a bag filled with lemons.

"Don't judge it before you try it." Haruhi frowned, "I know it sounds nasty but it's good when it's cold outside. And if you want to see my apartment again so much, you'll put up with it."

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry, Haruhi." The Idiot King apologized, resting his hands on her shoulders, making Kyouya's eyes narrow a bit. "I'll try it. Instant coffee was a hit when you brought it into our world, I will not deny hot lemonade as well!"

"Hot lemonade?" Kyouya touched his chin, "So that is what you drink when you're sick."

"Yeah, I don't really like hot tea when I'm sick, I drink it constantly when I'm well, so my father and I decided to try and make something else. We eventually tried Hot Lemonade and since we're still alive and we keep enough sugar, it's not hazardous."

"I will try it!" Suoh stated with determination, Haruhi simply started walking away down another aisle to pick up more things, the blond scurrying after her to try and find out what he said wrong this time.

Once again, Ootori just followed after them, following them like the shadow he was.

Perhaps there was a double-meaning to the title Shadow King.

* * *

"Haruhi, where do we go next? Where do we go next?" Tamaki asked, pumped up with excitement as he waved his arms, already holding onto the plastic handles of several bags.

"Stop shaking those!" Haruhi snapped, recovering from a few stifled coughs that he hadn't noticed in that time he was babbling, "I just have to pick up something from a repair shop, take the stuff home, and then you two can go home already."

"Haruhi, you don't want us to stay longer?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's hazardous to my health." She said flatly.

"MAH?!"

"Tamaki, Haruhi is still recovering from her cold." Kyouya reminded him, making the blond silent and appear more thoughtful of the situation. "Do you understand, now?"

"Yes."

Kyouya nodded, adjusting his glasses, noticing Haruhi had stopped walking with them and they both paused; staring back at her. "What is it?"

"It's just," Haruhi blank up at them for a moment, a bit confused as she stared at the two before her. "I guess I'm still amazed over how you two get along so well even though there are some enormous differences between you."

Smirking a bit and managing to momentarily awaken further, Kyouya exchanged a glance with Tamaki, met with a small smile before they both looked at her again. "You have already pointed out that we are very similar, Haruhi."

"Contradicting yourself, eh, Haruhi?" Tamaki grinned, shaking a finger once he loosened it from the plastic bags.

The hint of red in her cheeks made the two smile before Haruhi brushed past them and continued walking, her bag boys trailing after her and gradually returning to their previous moods, Kyouya's sinking back into a grouch as he observed the cliché names of the stores they passed, some of them having altered names of more popular businesses, ones he heard of as opposed to the majority of what he saw on the street.

"Here it is," Haruhi shifted her bags and pointed up at the wooden sign suspended over the entranceway, revealing a repair shop and the three trooped inside where the atmosphere was hardly any warmer than it had been outside. Tamaki huddled over a bit closer to Haruhi but Kyouya wondered to the shelves burdened with items bearing sale tags to reveal them purchasable if someone willed.

He didn't pay attention to the other two as they waited for the owner to come up front, eyes focusing upon some of the finished pieces and wondering exactly what the owner repaired on some of them, judging by the state they were in. However, he had to admit, some of the items looked pristine and buyable if he was the sort of person to buy personal items such as lamps or colorful music boxes. One in particular seemed to be in the best shape, a white music box that was curved into an oval shape with silver lining about the lid and the base. It seemed plain enough to be looked into further and he picked it up, opening the lid and expecting the melody to play but it was silent.

The box's interior has soft gray felt to posses jewelry or whatever nonsense someone could think to place inside but an uncharacteristic painting in the lid revealed cherry blossoms on warm gray branches, petals make out of brief brush strokes to appear flying from their blossoms in a painted wind. He didn't expect such a painting in such an ordinary box…but it was nice work from an artist he didn't recognize.

That was definitely a first.

Turning it over, he wound up the box and opened the lid again, listening to the soft tune tinkling out of the depths. Yet another trait he did not recognize in spite of his usual knowledge of artists and musicians. Snapping the top shut once more, he placed it on the shelf again.

"I'm going to wait outside." He announced quietly, not caring if he was heard as he pulled the glass door back open and slipped into the degree colder noon air.

If he bothered to watch, he could see Haruhi and the Idiot King through the window, a man at the counter and balancing a black radio in his hands with a dent in the metallic speaker but still in working condition, he was sure. Haruhi spoke with him rather friendly as opposed to her attitude with Suoh and himself so far on this errands run, but he supposed he couldn't blame her. She had company against her will quite often after all.

"Himitsu-chan, come on."

He turned a bit, taking one small step back to avoid a little girl who would have crashed into his leg and allowing her mother and herself to wonder by, hands held together in that usual parent/child bond they had.

"Daddy's waiting at the hospital."

The familiar term clicked in Ootori's mind and he tilted his head down partially, recalling the family's companies and the majority of them being related to the medical career. It suspended in his thoughts as he watched them wonder off further, the little girl glancing back over her shoulder at him and smiling obliviously. She was missing a tooth but another was on the way, he figured.

Did he smile back at the child?

Even he didn't know as he twisted back around to see Haruhi emerging from the store, trying to hold onto the radio along with the bags and Tamaki supporting one more bag with an obvious trinket for himself.

"Haruhi, here." He reached over and slid his hand beneath one of her own. With a little maneuver, he took the plastic bags from one of her hands and grasped them firmly; suspended at his side. "I might as well carry something while I'm here."

"Thanks…" she stared up at him curiously but he didn't focus on the inquisitive brown eyes long enough.

"Kyouya!"

"Hm?"

"I bought you something!" Tamaki grinned, holding up the newest sack on his pinky. "Take it. Take it!"

Raising an eyebrow, he accepted the bag and peered down through the miscellaneous openings of the bag to see what was sitting in the bottom of the plastic.

It was the music box he had been looking at.

"I saw how interested you were in that box so I bought it for you as a present!" Suoh grinned.

Briefly transferring the bag to join the other ones in his hand, he smacked the blond upside the head and earned a yelp of pain and then whining that asked for the meaning of his violence. All things of which he ignored and looked to Haruhi to lead them back to her place so they could deposit all of the items. A small desire to ask how much she spent bothered him in the back of his mind but he ignored it along with Tamaki as the trio walked on.

* * *

The clap of Kyouya's phone closing drew Tamaki and Haruhi's attention from their tea she had made, Kyouya sliding the phone into his pocket as he entered the sitting room once more and re-joined them at the table. Removing his glasses, he rest his elbow upon the table and covered his face with traces of an audible sigh evident.

"Kyouya?" Tamaki reached over to him.

"The car will be here soon." Ootori grumbled and the blond immediately drew his hand back. "The only thing keeping him from arriving sooner is that my father is being transported to a meeting he has arranged with the head of the Suoh family.

That made Tamaki's oblivion change into surprise, "Why would your father be meeting with mine?"

"Not your father, idiot." Kyouya lowered his hand, eyes narrowed, "He's meeting with your grandmother. I wasn't informed of such a meeting when I was home, it must have been a rather sudden arrangement he made."

He replaced his glasses, resting his hands on his knees and staring at the cup of tea sitting before him. The soft blue mug had a cow character's head on it, large brown eyes staring right back at him as if challenging a staring contest with him. Twisting the mug around by the brim to hide the caricature, he realized something that could have been responsible for the meeting.

November twenty-second was approaching. If that was the reason, he could understand why the Suoh family would be contacted by his father.

"It may not be serious after all." He murmured.

"Huh?" Haruhi blank over at him.

Replacing his glasses, Kyouya looked over at Tamaki and smiled. "The twenty-second is approaching, so the plans for the celebration are probably being set into motion."

"Ah, that's right! Now I understand! Grandmother likes banquets, especially when they involve birthdays, though she doesn't like to show it. Your father probably thought of inviting her along and so he's meeting with her!"

"Um, what is on November the twenty-second?"

The seniors looked to Haruhi as if they had just realized she was sitting there.

"The twenty-second is Kyouya's birthday!" Tamaki beamed.

"Oh, that explains a lot!" Her eyes widened, "I didn't know that." She turned to Kyouya, "No one really told me when their birthday was…"

He held up a hand, "I don't flaunt my birthday around and so you would have not received any hints regarding that it was on its way. The others don't really excite over it either since the parties are all practically the same, no matter what the occasion."

"Well, I can still wish you "Happy Birthday" though, right?"

"If that is what you wish to do. We are in your home after all, Haruhi."

But the thought of her wanting to wish him Happy Birthday was some-what touching in a way. Tamaki always made a show of it at the gatherings since he moved to Japan, but a simple birthday wish was a nice change this year.

"Happy early Birthday, Kyouya-senpai." She wished, smiling up at him.

It was funny how oblivious this girl could be sometimes. What was simple to her was always even simpler to him, yet, in spite of the simplicity, Kyouya was smiling. Tamaki could see it from where he was sitting. A soft smile that was warmer than he expected to see of him, small, but expressive of appreciation. A smile that was gone too quickly and replaced by a slight inquisitive look.

"Birthdays aside—though I suppose it_ is_ a related topic—I expect an explanation for this sudden "gift" Tamaki." He held up the plastic bag with the music box inside.

The blond grinned, "I saw how interested you were in it and so I bought it for you as an early birthday present! Now I don't owe you one like last time!"

"No, this only makes you have to purchase another one." Kyouya frowned.

Tamaki leaned away from his friend, "Y-You're evil."

"Which is why you keep me around." He smirked.

"Hey, can I see that?"

Both of the males looked back to Haruhi. Kyouya rest the bag upon the table and Haruhi fished it out, scooping the bag back off and resting the music box upon the center of the table.

"It's pretty plain for a music box."

"That's why I thought it would suit Kyouya!" Tamaki beamed, tapping the lid with his index finger; fears of Ootori's wrath forgotten. "Kyouya likes to keep things uniform about him! You should see his room; it is all white, gray, and black—"

"When you're finished talking about my_ private_ information," Kyouya said pointedly, pinching the back of Tamaki's hand and making the teen cringe and snatch his hand back to rub it gingerly.

"Actually, I think this suits Kyouya-senpai as well." She opened the lid and the final bits of the melody tinkered out before it fell silent. "He seems collective and put together on the outside, and just as ordinary on the inside as well, if not a bit devilish once in a while. But—" she turned the box around so that they could see the painting in the lid. "There is a part that's expressive, it may be something he hides, but it's there."

"Haruhi…MY DAUGHTER'S SO INSIGHTFUL! Haruhi, you can see into Kyouya like I can, right? Right?!" Tamaki asked, flinging himself at her and embracing her to him while she flailed and protested.

Ootori simply ignored them, shutting his eyes before reaching over and flipping the lid down so that it hit the rim with an assertive snap, rendering the two silent. He picked up the mug of tea and took a drink.

"Your insight is invalid." He stated; opening his eyes and the two opposite him froze over from the cold gleam in them.

"How?" Haruhi asked.

"I cannot compare anything with this music box. Not an emotion, not myself, nothing. Besides," he wound up the music box and cracked open the lid, "since when did I posses an aspect similar to this music?"

Haruhi edged the lid up further, Kyouya making sure his fingers fled before she could thoughtlessly touch them in the progress. "I know this song, listening to this version of it, I'm sure it doesn't apply to you, Kyouya-senpai. But still, the music itself at this pace…I think it's delicate enough for you."

"Delicate?" Tamaki and Kyouya asked at the same time.

Apparently they both doubted Kyouya Ootori was delicate in any way.

"This song, it's called Sakura Kiss, I don't like the original version that's on the radio or TV, but this one…it's ok." Haruhi pointed out, unaware of their questioning looks. "I don't know the words, but it suits this life. It suits the Host Club, I think."

"A song to suit the Host Club, eh?"

"Kyouya! We should get that song and have the others listen to it and make it into our theme!" Suoh exclaimed.

"NO." Haruhi and Kyouya said; this time their unison voices made the two stare at one another with raised eyebrows. It was unexpected, obviously.

The rather manufactured ring of Kyouya's phone caught his attention while Tamaki whined to Haruhi, wanting to know why she disagreed with them having a theme song. He heard the voice on the other line; recognizing it at the driver's.

"Tamaki, our car is here." He said, tucking the plastic away again; rising from where he sat.

"Oh, ok." The blond rose as well, Haruhi sticking the music box back into the plastic bag and holding it up to Kyouya as she stood.

"Don't forget this." She said, unknowing that he didn't really want it.

Taking it to keep anymore protest out of the way, he grabbed a handful of Tamaki's sleeve and hauled him towards the door; knowing the blond would probably try to cling to Haruhi if they didn't start moving right away. They retrieved their coats and Haruhi opened the door for them to release them back out into the chilling winter afternoon. Even with the sunlight, the streets of Japan were frozen and lifeless with the exception of the sleek black car idling in front of the apartments.

Tamaki left first, Kyouya about to follow when he paused and glanced over his shoulder back at Haruhi.

"Haruhi, the celebration will be at my family's main estate on the evening of the twenty-second. Whether or not you feel like going to it is up to you, it's a party similar to any other you have encountered while knowing any of us."

"I'll think about it. Do you mind if I don't go?"

He headed for the staircase, raising a hand in a motionless wave, "Let's just say, I'll be expecting compensation if you do not attend."

* * *

A/N:

Alright, the sequal is beginning to take shape. I've only finished the first chapter so this is going to take some time. Justice for Stupidity went much faster than I usually get stories up there so please bear with the long waits you may endure. I hope this new story appears promising. Especially since Kyouya's birthday is approaching.


	2. A Resemblance Made

**A Resemblance Made**

* * *

Yoshio did not dare to skip out on the usual planning for an event at the Ootori manor, not when the best of the best was prepared for their business partners and guests of wealthy heritage that Kyouya knew every important detail about and then some. Sometimes Tamaki asked him if his parents had his brain replaced with a computer when he was born, but the third son never really answered that question. He found that ignoring stupidity was the best way to avoid catching that contagious disease.

Passing a few servants as he wondered down the hallway, Kyouya speculated on the fancy decorations that were supposed to be in honor of his date of birth and yet they were gold like the Ootori crest that plagued his thoughts throughout his childhood and early teens. He hated that color, it was too bright and yet the true object of that intensity was cold and hard, a deceptive element that he had to compare himself with in some cases. A bright student who surpasses all of the other gems and precious metals and yet it was the coldest of all. Just like he surpassed his classmates, his brothers and even his father, coming out on top and claiming the Ootori's company for himself…he was the gold, his father the silver. Returning the managing position to Yoshio was only a minor set-back, he would reclaim it in due time…especially when he was certain he could live the life he predicted he would have to live.

A life without Fujioka, Haruhi.

"Kyouya-sama."

He turned to one of the maids.

"Kyouya-sama, your suit is prepared in your room and the guests will be arriving within the hour."

"Thank you." He ignored her bow and turned his back upon the hurried progress of the servants as they carried champagne glasses and trays up and down the labyrinth of hallways of the Ootori manor. He knew where they were headed with all of them and found none lagging in their duties to their paychecks when he made his way through; hindered by no one.

_I suppose the time is drawing near._

* * *

Straightening the cuff of his sleeve, Kyouya watched the movement beyond his wall of windows where he could see the meager flashes of light from cars arriving in front of the main entry. Even where his room was positioned he could catch faint traces of laughter and conversation as people coagulated within the veins of his family's estate. Already he could tell that it would not be an easy night, not with so many business opportunities waiting beyond his door and down the hallway.

The room comforted him, lights off and all windows exposed, even the ones along the upper floor where his bed lay separate from the rest of the room. The silvery illumination of the moonlight streaking through reminded him of the celestial alterations that winter brought in its wake and dragged the moon along unwillingly into earlier hours. From the rate it was going, he wouldn't have a natural illumination by the time he would be allowed to re-enter his room. A reason to switch the lights back on and remind himself of his bleak bedroom.

How could he be gold when everything around him was bleached white? Sanitary like a hospital bedroom and certainly no where near as welcoming as gold's luster.

"What am I?" he pondered quietly, wondering over to the stairs and descending them slowly while his thoughts continued to rotate to different subjects and identities he would need to call upon.

His door fell away like a curtain in the moment it took him to leave the quiet comforting embrace of his bedroom and into the brilliantly lit hallways filling with conversation and attempts at a warm atmosphere to make the birthday boy feel welcome in his own home. A difficult task since the Ootori mansion was hardly able to be considered homey to anyone, a perfect place for him to live.

"Kyouya-san, Happy Birthday!" someone cried once he walked into the first wave of guests, smiling mechanically and welcoming the people who flocked to him by name.

It was endless wave after wave beyond that point, the current carrying him through the house until he was joining the masses in the rather angular futuristic style of the Ootori's great room. It was passed off as a ballroom for the evening, even though it was rarely used for dancing on any other occasion. Sometimes there were people that had to be won over by a little display of tasteful dancing, especially prosperous men from Spain. The quickest way to a Spanish heart is dance.

Perhaps that was why there were people swaying about in elegant arcs around the room when he entered, familiar faces but no real friends smiling and twisting in circles like figurines on a magnetized floor plan. A boring sight, but perhaps that would change after the members of the Host Club decided to arrive, Mori and Hunny included, of course.

Speaking of which, he started to hear hints of their arrival being whispered on the lips of the younger ladies mixed in with the crowd. That was enough to bring him to excuse himself from the benefactors and return to the Entrance Hall to receive his more interesting guests when they arrived. He seemed to reach the entrance just in time since they were filing into the doorway and removing their coats to pass off to servants in an instant.

Mori and Hunny came first, Hikaru and Kaoru following afterwards with Tamaki practically pushing Haruhi after them.

How they managed to arrive all at once he could easily guess but passed it off for later thought.

"Welcome, everyone." He greeted, the majority of the club hurrying over to wish him a happy birthday while Haruhi asked one of the servants where to put her coat.

She obviously didn't recognize that she had to give her coat away rather than taking care of it herself. The hosts neglected to inform her of that over the year they have been together it seemed.

"Ma'am, please, it's no trouble—"

"I just wanted to do it myself though." Haruhi said, confused by the maid's reaction to her inquiry.

"Haruhi, I insist you give your coat to the maid." Kyouya said, standing in front of the commoner and the maid immediately bowed; panicking due to the awkward situation Haruhi was putting her through.

"It's not like my arms are broken, I can do it myself. Why is it such a big deal?" Haruhi asked, in no way sarcastic. She genuinely wanted to know why they wouldn't let her put her own things away when it was someone else's house.

"Regardless, it's best to let her do her job." He said, moving behind her and assisting her in removing the coat, though she protested his gesture after he had already handed off the coat.

The inquiries didn't sink in when he observed Haruhi's clothing.

She had been taken prisoner by the twins no doubt. The dress was something he could consider cute but rather surprising at the same time.

Clad in a knee-length gown that was off the shoulder and rather suiting to her improving figure, the dress was white, of all the colors and neutrals to choose from, the twins had to pick white for her. The lily hairpiece shared the gleaming white of the gown and he ended up turning away from her to the other hosts, laughing to himself as he passed the others and indicated they follow him to join the rest of the party.

_She looks like she should be in the décor…not that I do not approve of the turn-out._

* * *

"I'm dizzy." Haruhi sighed, leaning lightly against the wall beside a row of crystal clear windows that revealed a rather empty lawn devoid of flowers or shrubbery like the twins' home had or the grounds of Ouran academy. A stretched out lawn of emerald green turned gray in the moonlight; occasionally interrupted by pools of yellow provided by the lights illuminating the entryway or unseen windows.

She was forced to take a rest due to the number of dances she had accepted rather mindlessly. Most of them were young and almost all of the Host Club was included, Mitsukuni being the last to dance with her and his height was still at a great alteration from her own. The spinning Hunny had commenced when she joined hands with him was just like the night of the Ouran Festival when he danced with her. A nice memory but one she didn't realize she would have to re-live.

Kyouya did not step up though.

When she saw him, he was talking with people much older than he was and on some occasions, his father was standing beside him and smiling the same uniform smile his third son was giving.

It was certainly not what Haruhi was used to in a birthday party. At the Ootori's home it was just another business opportunity, nothing personal or celebratory about it. But in Haruhi's world, she recalled homemade banners and close friends crowded around a birthday cake with parents beginning an uneven chorus of "Happy Birthday" to embarrass you to the point of wanting to shove your face into the cake.

This was certainly not what a birthday party should be like.

"Require a seat?" She jerked her head up as Kyouya joined her at the wall; folding his arms. "You look fatigued from the amount of attention you are drawing yourself among my guests."

"Even if I did, I can't find one." She said, looking at the crowd.

"Everyone is meeting in my room in a few minutes, Tamaki has arranged something to surprise me and so I have no choice if I want to get him out of there at some time this evening." He smiled a little to himself then looked to Haruhi, "You're welcome to go with them and sit down until I can make my way there."

"Ah—that would be nice." She admitted; pushing off of the wall. "But I can't leave the main party until I do something."

That surprised him, his brow rising in question to her statement.

Coming around and standing in front of him, Haruhi held out her hand.

"I haven't danced with all of the members of the Host Club yet."

Staring at the hand for a minute, the birthday boy steadily raised his gaze to her own expectant stare. He seemed to be searching her eyes for a lack of interest or false motives in this gesture but she was certain he would only find earnesty in them. She wanted to dance with all of the members of the Host Club. It felt more traditional that way.

But most of all, she wanted to dance with _him_.

It was unclear why she did, her feet already ached with the number of offers throughout the evening, but it wouldn't have been right for her to ignore the person for which this party was dedicated to in the first place. She had to do what she could to make sure he knew she really did hope he had an enjoyable birthday before Tamaki could put his plan into action.

Besides, she couldn't leave any loose ends that he would come to her to ask for some form of payment later on in the week.

He reached over and took her hand but pulled her arm and linked it with his; fastening his other hand around the one she had offered while their arms were linked together and he began to escort her towards the dance floor. It was routine, perhaps, but she didn't mind it. With all of the exposed skin the dress could not cover, she was glad to feel the warmth of his arm with hers and his fingers felt slightly more pleasant that the hot and sticky digits of other partners.

Dancing with Ootori, Kyouya was never unpleasant…even if she didn't understand the look in his eyes throughout that partnership.

* * *

"If you get out of my house right now, I can pretend you did not exceed your stupidity."

Kyouya narrowed his eyes at Tamaki and the others sitting around the "bean" table with a square box sitting in the center and paper plates with printed confetti on the very edge. Bottled beverages sat in a cooler beside one of his couches and balloons swayed tauntingly from the handles of the long chest of drawers stretching beneath his windows.

"It's much more fun to have a commoner's birthday party though!" Tamaki grinned as if he didn't hear the dangerous tone of the Shadow King's voice.

"Frankly I think you just made the room look like a piñata exploded…" Haruhi muttered. She had arrived with Kyouya after their dance in the main festivities and she seemed to be more ashamed of the party than Kyouya let on himself.

"Stop staring and start playing!" the twins grinned, popping up on either side of the two and pushing Haruhi inside rather than touching the already furtive Ootori beside her. He followed without a word and sat upon the couch while Hunny opened up the box and revealed a square cake with a caricature of his head against the purple colored frosting.

"Happy Birthday, Kyo-chan!"

He didn't respond, staring down at the cake in silence. _Is that really what they think I should look like as an animated character?_

"Haruhi, who cuts the cake?" Tamaki asked, turning around to face her.

"Well, my father used to cut it when I was little." She said, thinking back a bit, "So, who cuts it doesn't really matter. I just know the person of whose birthday it is can have the first piece and the first bite."

Kyouya could see the falter in Hunny's smile.

"Candles!" Tamaki announced, holding up a cardboard box with the slender candles visible through the slid in the front. He opened it up and the twins took over, pushing him out of the way and forming a shape over the top of the caricature's head. The white candles created a small crown. A joke, no doubt…

Mori lit them one by one with a book of matches with a name over the flap that Kyouya recognized from the okama bar Haruhi's father worked at.

Watching the flames flicker in an unsteady dance, Kyouya barely listened to the chorus of the commoner birthday tune that Haruhi took part in despite the obvious lack of desire to. He saw it on her face when he managed to glance up in her direction.

To see her kneeling there on the other side of the table, the candlelight flickering over her face and dancing with the shadows…he suddenly didn't mind the poorly assembled birthday party the Host Club had assembled for him. In fact, he almost thought he was smiling in those few seconds before blowing out the candles at Tamaki's urging. The Idiot King "helped" him but his breath came a few seconds too late.

Haruhi picked up the knife before the twins, Tamaki, or Hunny could have a chance to wield a sharp object. "I'll cut it once you clear off the candles."

They removed them and Haruhi plucked the last one off, licking the lingering frosting like the others before setting it down upon one of the paper plates. The other Hosts didn't look as remotely alluring when they had removed the excess frosting from the bases of the candles. Perhaps it was only because Kyouya harbored the feelings dangerous enough to cloud his mind with visions more altered than they really were. The sight made his eyes dart away until he knew it was safe enough to check the progress of the cake's dismemberment.

"Here, Kyouya-senpai."

Fujioka held the plate out to him and he took it without a word.

"Kyo-chan, hurry, hurry! I want cake too!" Hunny whined.

A smirk brought him out of the momentary unease he experienced earlier. "Oh, so I am to be rushed into my first bite by my guests?"

"W-We just want to taste the cake, Kyouya." Tamaki laughed, sounding a bit nervous. "Haruhi showed us a bakery in town and we wanted to order a cake from there for you."

"We're curious!" the twins added together.

"I want to know how it tastes." Hunny admitted.

Kyouya looked from one face to the next until he saw Haruhi sitting quietly, cutting the cake into pieces to be removed later on once they were done bickering over his first bite. He was amused by the fact she could continue working even though the room was noisy with excuses and stalling.

"Hauhi."

She looked up.

"I'm not interested in your birthday traditions." He said, taking his fork and sticking it into the top of his piece, slipping it into his mouth before setting the sweet onto the table. "But since Tamaki and the others are so involved, I have humored you."

Rising from the couch, he manipulated himself around it and disappeared into his bathroom.

Even though the door he could tell the festivities were commencing without him. He didn't mind it either, but a commoner's birthday was not something he was used to, nor would he agree too at Tamaki's influence. Birthdays have never been special to him and he didn't want to change it now when it was nineteen years too late. The Commoner's Birthday would have to be the only part of Tamaki's need to deal into Haruhi's life that he would not consent to be a part of.

* * *

"Oh, here, Hunny-senpai!"

"Tono!"

"Kaoru!"

Kaoru fumbled with the balloon for a moment before hitting it with his palm back towards the three. The sudden game was hardly anything Kyouya would call interesting, Mori wouldn't have agreed with him, but he was still sitting out of the play. Haruhi on the other hand…he couldn't see her.

Pushing off of the wall, Kyouya checked about the room for a moment and then approached his staircase, resting his hand upon the railing and hearing the very soft tune of the music box Tamaki had given him the day they accompanied Haruhi around town. He climbed the stairs and found whom he had been looking for sitting on the edge of his bed, observing the music box in her lap.

"Haruhi."

"Kyouya-senpai." She smiled up at him, "I didn't expect you to keep this."

"It will not be here much longer." He shrugged, approaching the bed and standing before her.

"It's interesting." She mused, "I thought you would throw it away once Tamaki-senpai had his back turned."

"You are the one who handed it back to me when we left your apartment. Do you not remember?" He countered as he rose an eyebrow.

"Ah, that's right!" Her eyes widening with realization, "I'm sorry, I forgot about that."

"Why apologize?" Kyouya shrugged for he was unbothered by the momentary memory-lapse and sat down beside her; catching the movement of her hands as she passed it over to him.

Lifting his eyes back up to her face, he eyed her questioningly.

"It's yours. I was only looking at it." She smiled.

Accepting the music box, Kyouya stared down at the painting within the lid. He rest his fingertips over the tip and pushed it down; cutting off the melody sharply in the middle of its tune. The silence was still incomplete with the four downstairs, Mori not being a problem among them and yet it was a little better sitting with the natural host upon his bed rather than down below.

"Kyouya-senpai…"

"Hm?"

"I was wondering. Why do you keep your room so uniform?"

"You already know the answer to such a question." He pointed out, "You know I am not the type of person who expresses some sort of interest in personal trinkets of any kind. What would the point be in keeping statuettes, pictures, or any other kind of personal item here if I do not like it in the end?"

"You kept the music box." She said, blinking up at him as she pointed at the item mentioned. "That is something personal, isn't it?"

He followed her finger and looked upon the music box Tamaki had given to him. "So it would seem…"

"Then it should be something personal and you seem to like it enough." Haruhi looked over at the wall of windows, "You probably liked it for a moment before, but now it's something you value. Not much but enough to keep yourself from throwing it away I guess."

Something about the way she pointed this out made the Shadow King ponder to himself, even after she silently excused herself and wondered back down to the others below. The resemblance to the feelings disturbing him was uncanny to how he began to love this commoner mingling with the other hosts. He only reguarded her as someone to torment with their meager funds but the more time he was forced to spend around this creature, the more he came to enjoy her company. It was like this music box he still held in his lap.

He spotted the music box alone in the repair shop and toyed with it in mild curiosity only to have it forced upon him by Tamaki. Was the Idiot King not also responsible for forcing the commoner into his life, blissfully unaware of the results such an interaction would cause?

Though Kyouya held no special affection towards the music box, he dreaded the uncanny resemblance to his situation with Fujioka.

Rising from the bed and setting the music box upon the shelf where Haruhi most-likely discovered it before, he returned to the others and sat upon the couch in silence just as Hunny removed another slice from his cake. Tamaki was trying to sit in between Haruhi and Hikaru, who had sat a centimeter too close to one another for his taste and Kaoru merely watched in amusement, propping his chin in his palm.

"Kyouya-senpai, you'd better have another piece before Hunny-senpai eats it all." Haruhi pointed out, pushing a paper plate bearing a piece towards him; ignoring Tamaki as he tried to push Hikaru over. Eyeing the frosting, Ootori reached over and picked it up obediently, waiting for Haruhi to look away before setting it back down on the edge of the table.

He never did like sweets.


	3. A Humorless Heart

* * *

**_A Humorless Heart_**

* * *

Time had a rather bothersome habit of passing too quickly for his taste.

Kyouya's first encounter with a blond-haired air-head in middle school; only endured due to the will of a father he once believed had absolute control over his fate, to traveling Japan with this permanent tourist. Following such trips was his infamous change in attitude that drove him over the deep end, and then came that winter night shared under a kotatsu and green tea. That bizarre idea he found ridiculous and yet appealing to the secret longing for something, well, different.

In fact, tonight's weather seemed to hold promise of a great similarity to the day of Tamaki's proposal to create the Host Club.

He thought about it, strangely enough, when his customer asked him about the foundations of their little club. She was of the haughty type, curious to know things that held no true benefit but as long as the money from her daddy's bank account found its way into the club's funds, he did not mind the snob personalities that seemed to always grace his tables. Let the more interesting members have their light-hearted fan girls. Ootori was satisfied enough with what he had.

What he wanted was another story.

"How did Tamaki-sama concoct such an idea on his own?" Midori Isuzu asked, blinking over her teacup before sipping it to the same volume all etiquette seemed to rely upon.

"Unfortunately, it is our policy not to directly discuss the foundations of our organization, Midori-hime." He smiled, lacing his fingers together and resting them upon the table. "I am sure you understand our specifications."

"I apologize." Midori stated, lacking sincerity.

It was not long before her session was up and he was allowed to relax as much as his host façade would allow in the blue-blooded public eye. He thought about the recent sells of the photo books, the decline in purchases of Renge's manga on their club due to lack of real plot in them, and then there was Haruhi's "Instant Coffee" that their customers were so fond of. Demands for the drink were surprisingly increasing in his statistics.

_Haruhi, huh?_

Sighing at the pathetic nature of his thoughts so easily drifting to the commoner, he turned his head and glanced at the weather beyond the grand windows of the room. Beyond the panes of glass the afternoon was gray but not in a gloomy sense as rainy days. No, this first of December held a much more promising sight. Little sweet-nothings of snow that promised to fall when the day grew older than its afternoon laze.

It would be a cold walk to the car today but nothing he would really notice.

Cold weather suited him and he knew it.

"Tamaki-sama," one of the customers were so deeply flushed that it resounded in their voice when they spoke. There was no need for him to look and see just what was occurring. "Will you hold me?"

"I will hold you as long as you desire to be in these humble arms."

Had he the exasperation of the average human being, Kyouya would have rolled his eyes at such speech. However, he was inclined to share this form of dialogue in some ways, surely not as pathetically worded as his Idiot King's but out of the norm sonnets that robbed him of his dignity behind the smile of his mask. None of his guests really wanted physical contact from him anyway. They were intimidated by his cool nature and were unable to imagine themselves being held by such a person. To be embraced, to be kissed, and to simply be loved by Kyouya Ootori was no better than embracing a statue in their eyes.

_I don't want their contact, I want their connections. _Kyouya thought to himself, rising from his vacant table and flipping over the cover of his notebook to observe the schedule he had not managed to fully commit to memory that afternoon. "I am finished for the day. Hikaru and Kaoru have two, Mori-senpai and Hunny-Senpai one, Tamaki three, and Haruhi two."

Pointing out the names as he sought out each time frame spent with customers, he noticed that the twins had their tricky visitors today. Two girls who were identical twins as they were but were no where near as closed from the world as the brothers. The girls liked the dose of brotherly love but only because they shared Renge's passion for anime. Hikaru and Kaoru would have to work harder today to get their fantasies to kick into gear…what with all of those "yaoi" manga floating around these days, originality is scarce.

It was almost a shame that he could not approach them and simply say: "Prophets are down. Turn up the sex." That would have been entertaining to witness the reactions but it was just something he did not believe he could say.

What humor did a statue have?

* * *

"Kyouya-senpai, when you left the Host Club, what were you doing near my apartment?"

The third son looked up from his laptop at the inquisitive Haruhi standing beside the table and halfway in the process of picking up an untouched cup of coffee.

"What brought up such a question?" he asked, touching the bridge of his glasses to press them up briefly and then settling his fingers back over the keys of the Pineapple.

"Nothing, really." Haruhi stated as she set the cup and saucer upon her tray. "I had to watch Akiito against yesterday and I remembered it."

"Ah, the little boy." The child that made him encountered those brief moments of what a father might have gone through and also induced the thoughts of what Haruhi would have been like as a mother. It was an occurrence he would probably never witness but took secret interest in trying to imagine such a thing. "How is he, now that I remember him?"

"Oh, he is getting pretty big."

Haruhi smiled a bit and held her hand out at her side; forcing Kyouya's eyes to stray and see just how low she held her hand.

"He is just a little over my knee now. I think his mother has been giving him a lot of milk, otherwise I doubt he would have grown so fast."

"You seem to be enthusiastic when you talk about Akira."

"Well," Haruhi looked up at the ceiling; thoughtful of his words. "It feels natural to be happy when I talk about him. I don't baby-sit often and every time I do, it always wears me out. In the end, however, I don't mind him that much. I like him."

"You may have received experience with children from handling Tamaki and the others." Kyouya said passively, typing away again. "You are not a Host but a babysitter to those five. I have pointed out that they are growing up but they are still liable to act as children."

"Don't you ever feel like you act that way, senpai?"

His fingers froze and he lifted his head but Kyouya's gaze was obscured by the glare in his glasses.

"Do I seem the type to behave like a child?" he asked, skeptical she had an answer.

The commoner smiled though, closing her eyes as the curve of her lips improved a little more when she spoke. "You tolerate Tamaki-senpai's desires to play the games I did when I was growing up. I can't pay attention to your reaction, senpai, but I think you actually enjoy some of them."

With that, she walked away. Another cliff-hanger to add to the many she left him at before since they first started to have a conversation. Interruptions or perhaps a need to win the argument always resulted in her departure from his side. Yes, it bothered him. Yes, he wanted to call her back and force her to stay near. And yes, he had the urge to trap her against him for all eternity.

But he wouldn't.

* * *

The soft melody of the music box tinkered above his headboard as he lay still upon the bedding. Since he wound up the little silvery key and opened the lid to let the sounds escape, Kyouya had remained collapsed upon the mattress. His glasses tossed aside, uniform jacket draped over the railing of the second story where he lay, tie loosened…everything that should have induced comfort. Yet he was still feeling discomfort inside of him.

A chaotic void was being filled too quickly, too soon for something that had once been so empty and it was all because of the constant vigil of the club where he would have to see this source of silent torture.

He wanted her. He wanted her more than he wanted her last month, more than last year even. He wanted her so badly he could almost picture a way to finally take what he wanted. However, in the end, no plan surfaced. Kyouya's mind was burnt out of plans to keep her close without suspicions rising from the other hosts or even herself. He was tired of thinking about her, tired of letting Tamaki grow closer to her, tired of seeing her, tired of _wanting_ her.

Tired of waiting for her.

* * *

Haruhi fumbled with the pan handle that nearly slipped from her soapy fingers when the door suddenly opened and her dad danced into the kitchen; kicking off his high-heels in different directions as he pranced. She inwardly groaned as one of the shoes slammed into the room divider and punched a hole through the paper. The accident went unnoticed by her father though. Ranka continued to prance about the room with a ridiculous smile plaguing his face.

For a moment his daughter smiled a little to herself; glad to see him happy, but it faltered the moment he came to stand right in front of her.

"Ha-ru-hi-i! Daddy's just been pa-id!" Ranka announced, waving the envelope in her face.

Looking at her father's name on the paper, she snatched it from his hand. The motion extinguished the flame of happiness that was her father's expression and it dropped so quickly he felt he was sad before his happiness was stifled.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to put it into our savings before you spend it on something we don't need." Haruhi said flatly, causing her father to feel even more saddened.

"Where has my adorable daughter gone?" Ranka asked the ceiling; clasping his hands.

"To the bank." Haruhi stated; already stepping into her shoes and straightening to zip up her coat she had donned in the time her father fell into depression.

The comment of his daughter accompanied by her flattened tone forced Ranka to spin around and stare at his daughter; standing slouched and confused. "Since when have we been involved with a bank?"

"I opened a savings account when we had to east the heels of bread with miso soup for dinner three nights ago. I'm putting some of your paycheck in it so we have emergency money that you can't sneak into when you think I'm not looking." She narrowed her eyes at her father and the okama smiled innocently, turning away.

"Be safe!" he called, disappearing into the next room with record speed.

Heaving a sigh, Haruhi left the apartment and paused just outside of the door; glancing down towards the fencing where she remembered seeing Kyouya Ootori standing only about one month ago. She remembered it in spite of the other things occupying her time.

It was strange. She had been playing with Akira outside beside the stairs one moment and then decided to bring the toddler inside but not before catching a glimpse of black beginning to pass the entrance of the fence. The coat was well-blended with what most people could afford but even with that there was no mistake in recognizing the Shadow King standing before her apartment complex.

Even now, she did not truly understand what made her call out to him. Haruhi was surprised, no doubt, but she was even more shocked when she called out his name and soon invited him inside of her home.

"What was he doing here?" she asked herself, slipping the paycheck into her pocket and descending the stairs to the ground level. "Kyouya-senpai isn't the type to be on his own in this part of town."

Puzzling over it only made her think about it more and recall her asking him about it just before the club split and went home for the day.

He had avoided the question.

Kyouya Ootori normally answered questions she didn't even ask verbally. The vice president had always seemed to be able to read her mind when it came to the Host club but when it came to himself and the questions were inquired, he did not answer. It felt some-what unfair to have one simple inquiry be dismissed after so many others.

Didn't he explain to her his whole plot when he left the host club?

Haruhi froze in mid-step.

The senior had also stayed with her through the thunderstorm. Oh my, she hadn't forgotten about that! Haruhi had been a witness to a break in Ootori's collective nature as he carried her and helped her block her ears from the storm before she fell asleep.

"What is it?" she wondered; feeling a little frustrated as she started walking again. "What is it that made him considerate? And why does it bother me to the point I am thinking about it _now_?"

* * *

A/N:

Another update but it may be a while before the next one is posted. I'm lagging on creativity still and this story never really did have much of a plot...poor Kyouya is being robbed of his dignity by my sucky writing.


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